Vengeance of the Notorious V
by Raggedydollz
Summary: After the death of V, Evey witnesses all his hard work is in jeopardy when a new militia and government start taking control of London. Now a new terrorist is about and shares striking qualities of someone from her past. vev
1. prologue

A/n: I don't own "V for Vendetta". Alan Moore, DC Comics, and Vertigo, own this brilliant graphic novel/ and movie.

This story is from the movie's perspective. I'm a V for Vendetta virgin, so be nice! Hope you enjoy!

Title: -Vengeance of the Notorious V-

Genre: Action Adventure/Romance/Drama

Rating: M for Mature or R

_Summary: After the death of V, Evey witnesses all his hard work is in jeopardy when a new militia and government start taking control of London. Now a new terrorist is about and shares striking qualities of someone from her past._

_**Prologue.**_

_November 5th.5:00a.m_

London streets ran rapid with chaos. The police were at a loss of what to do, waiting on orders to be given from parliament. Lieutenant Riley O' Conner waited in anxiety with his troops, ordering the rebellious citizens throughout London to take off their masks. One of his soldiers addressed him in panic.

"What do we do sir! This mob has gotten out of our control, and I cannot get a hold of Mr. Creedy or the rest of the board!" Young Captain Moby hollered above the noise. O' Conner kept his eyes on the mass mob his men were fighting off.

"Find Adam Sutler!" He shouted in irritation.

Moby tried to brace himself as he told his commanding officer the bad news. "Uh...S-sir, um...Mr. Adam Sutler was found dead behind the Liberty building just a few moments ago."

O' Conner growled. _He wants a war...we'll give him one. _"Get the defense line ready! I want these prospective terrorist found! Tell the citizens to take off those damn mask or we will burry them in it!"

"Bullocks..." Moby muttered to himself.

It took everything in him not to run away. Not to hide. Somewhere...deep down, past his obligations to his country and his oath of loyalty, and his reason, he wanted to be on the other side. He wanted to be one of those crazy rebellions in the Guy Fawkes mask. But if they knew that they were about to face a firing squad...would they still be rebellious?

This 'V' person had created an epidemic of drastic proportions. Now, it was up to the military and the remaining political leaders to restore what was once the '_The Perfect System.'_

Shouting orders in his walkie talkie, he yelled the list of demands for the troops to follow. Soon, there would be blood to add to the fire. Women and children's screams will be heard for miles...And he was giving them their deaths.

Moby took in a deep breath and exhaled. _Orders were orders. _With a heavy heart, he prepared to send the people of London to his death. However, he was walking in the opposite direction of the troops. He was walking away.

--- 5:01am

Evey sat in a different part of the Shadow Gallery this morning, sipping from a champagne bottle. She had sat where the roses grew vibrant, and their luscious red filling every part of the room. The green house had come to be V's favorite room of his layer, she soon discovered.

The roses were still, uncut, and waiting to be picked. They had no clue that their previous owner wasn't coming back. Evey had cried in excruciating grief, all the while London was going crazy.

She couldn't bring herself to do more than mourn over the death of a man whom she had come to love. The man no one knew. The man who had set everyone, herself included, free, risking his life to do so. They would never get to pay him the tribute he so deserved.

Glancing around the room, Evey smiled sad smile of adoration. _He wouldn't have wanted it anyway. _

Her sad thoughts of a love lost brought her to think about all the great tragedies of history, rather fiction or fact. Samson and Delilah, Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Insole, Beauty and the Beast.

"I envy you, love, but such a thing is not meant to last." she whispered, taking another swing of champagne.

Gathering her strength, Evey returned to the rooftop. Smoke from the parliament building was still a gashing with flames of retribution. But there was something else. Screams. Men, women...Songs of death could be heard, and it tore her heart into pieces. She saw the military firing at these defenseless people without mercy, without conscience.

"Oh my god...no. NO!" She cried out in fury.

No more lives needed to be taken today. November 5th was supposed to be the beginning of freedom, not the bloody restoration of London's fascist government.

As if God heard the cries of his children and wept, rain poured from the sky. Evey stared mercilessly down at the firing squad emptying out their clips on those who took a stand. Those who dared to be different. Those who wanted to see a new day. The water from the dark sky drizzled on her peach-fuzzed hair.

"God is in the rain..." she calmly stated.

V was right. The only verdict was vengeance.


	2. chapter 1

Chapter One

One year later….November 5th.

Closing up the door to his office, Mr. Lupton hurried to be on his way out the building. He rushed to his car, his rattling keys shook in his unsettled clammy hands.

The night had once been unsafe for men of status like Mr. Lupton. Rebellious Bandits, who were scattered across London like rats, set out and killed anyone wearing a suit in tie. Those who had taken the terrorist's edict a little too much to heart. They once had a purpose; now, they are just drunken felons running from the law. There aren't that many around, but those who hide out, making shadow attacks.

But that wasn't the case now, was it? Surely the government's new militia called the "The Peace" could escape their grasp. "Could they?" Mr. Lupton thought aloud.

It was an impossible feat to be sure. Security had become extra-tight. No man, woman, or child went anywhere without the accompaniment of an appointed fingermen. Curfew was at 8:00pm instead of 10:00pm. Anyone caught after hours were immediately quarantined, questioned, and put on trial for due sentencing.

Oh yes, they were serious.

But there were rumors. Preposterous rumors going about to scare the up and forthcoming governments. Rumors of the acclaimed 'V' to have risen from the dead like a ghost, hunting down the campaign runners for office.

With the new election of prime minister, Mr. Lupton was quite uneasy of the outcome. Men in certain positions would make England the biggest dictatorship in history. Shrugging off his doubts, he finally relaxed.

"Ah…here we go." He said satisfactorily, finally finding the correct key.

He glanced in the mirror of his car to see a shadow move so swiftly, he thought it was in his imagination. Mr. Lupton then saw the red rose on his windshield.

"Oh…" His heart stopped. Turning ever too slowly, he saw the face of terror. The Guy Fawkes mask on a figure of death.

The killer had the mask of the terrorist V, and the intimidation. He wore all black, like he was an angel of Death. A long Body fit trench coat that stopped short of his ankles. Traditional black boots with the small heel. He stood in perfect posture, revealing a set of three knives on each hip. He was clearly making the statement that he wanted to be seen and he wanted everyone to know he knew.

"Who are you?" He demanded, his voice trembling, noticing that there was something completely different about this supposed terrorist.

The white masked figure of darkness chuckled slightly, before answering in a lethally calm voice. "Who? Who is but the form following the function of what... and what I am is a man in a mask.

Mr. Lupton swallowed hard trying to breathe rationally. There was a panic button on his watch. All he had to do was press it and "The Peace" will be there in less than three minutes. Three minutes was all he needed.

"I can see that." Lupton answered, nervously. He took a step back only to bump into his car. Quickly, he pushed the small panic button on his watch. Breathing was a lot more easily accomplished now.

The mask's smile seemed to expand. "Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation, I'm merely remarking on the paradox of asking a masked person who he is."

"Fine. Then, what is it that you want, terrorist. And hurry because you only have two minutes and 30 seconds left before _they _swipe your sorry ass off the streets." Mr. Lupton spat with venom.

The figure shook his head. "No Mr. Lupton. I'm afraid; you only have two minutes and 25 seconds to listen. The document of '_Anonymous Justifications of November 5th'_ has the names of six, potentially seven, men. These men are in agreement that the extermination of 4,000 people on the morning of November 5th was justified.

It is also a contract, which the election of this year has to have seven anonymous votes from parliament, voting a new prime minister into office. The problem with this document, is that it corrupts London's elections all together, making the citizens' vote worthless, and miraculously putting your elected parliamentarian into office. You may wonder why I would bother to enlighten you with what you already know. As I mentioned, there are six names on that death list… and your name, Mr. Lupton…just so happens to be the first."

Mr. Lupton smirked with ignorance, as if all that the terrorist's words went into one ear and out the other. Sirens pulled up with their bright head-lights.

"Time's up." He smiled. His mirth of stupidity died when the terrorist laughed back.

V stepped forward. "Indeed it is. "

Mr. Lupton gasped as a lightning quick jolt shot through his throat. He collapsed against the car, feeling on his throat. He pulled out a syringe and took in large amounts of air. Surprisingly, he could breathe normally.

The terrorist known as 'V' faced the "Peace Force". _How ironic that those two words be put in the same title_. V thought, amused.

"PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR AND GET ON YOUR KNEES, NOW!" The team leader shouted the instructions from the van. V put his hands on his head, but he did not yield.

"ACT ACCORDINGLY, OR WE WILL USE FORCE!" He attempted to deescalate the situation.

"With all do respect, sir" V stated with a cool expression behind the smiling mask. "…I prefer the force."

And that was all it took. The Leader of the fingermen gave specific orders. The men jumped out the van and charged toward V like a pack of hungry wolves. This was no matter. V patiently waited as they were all aligned. Unsheathing a dagger, the men could barely keep up with the terrorist's movements.

"There are three daggers in my left hand gentlemen. Three daggers that will undoubtedly end the lives of three of you before the others join you. Which one of you would like to die first?"

The question was polite and courteous considering the situation, but that is not what the police were curious about. There were in fact only two daggers in his hand. The fingermen glanced at each other with a smirk.

The captain chose to make a comment. "Genius, there are only two bloody knives in your hands..." A wind blew past him.

Two of his men fell to the floor in a single heap. "Bullocks!" He turned to face the terrorist just in time to see the third knife aim straight for his throat.

"Three." V said solemnly.

The remaining three charged at V, trying their hardest to get a hit in. V stole one of their batons, skillfully beating the two while one watched from afar with a bloody nose. Sending one into a pavement wall with a cracked skull, and another with a broken neck, V patiently waited for the last one to make a move.

The last fingerman was young, scared, and frozen in his comfort place-the corner. V stared straight through him. The man dropped his weapon, putting his hands up in defeat. He watched as V walked into the darkness, passing a now very dead Mr. Lupton clutching his rose.

V returned home to his beloved shadow Gallery to find it exactly how he had left it. Well not _exactly. _He knew Evey wouldn't be here. She was everywhere, and she was nowhere. A trait she had obviously picked up from him. All the revolutionaries know her as a mystery. No one had encountered with her after November of last year. She was a gypsy in every sense.

In the past six months, tracking her down was like chasing a ghost. This is the nickname that the rebels gave her.

Walking to his beloved jukebox, he played moonlight sonata. The soft music of Beethoven filled the air. In his kitchen, he poured himself a glass of wine. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed there was a manila envelope.

Taking a seat, he saw that it was addressed to him. Opening its contents, he read the letter.

_April 5th, 2006_

_V, _

_The thought has not eluded my mind that I am no doubt writing to a dead man, but I feel the need to put these feelings into words, even if for my own peace of mind. It's been exactly six months since your death, and as you can undoubtedly see from the heavens, that things have gone terribly wrong. You were right. The world isn't the same. People have changed. Some for the best, others…. _

_There are three angles to work with now. There is a new bread of fingermen called the Peace Force (how ironic). They do the new commissioner's work whose name I'm not privy to. He orders these men to do his dirty work. Pigs. Yesterday, I witnessed a young boy being carried away with a white sheet over his entire body. He had been wearing a Guy Fawkes mask. The revolutionaries, whom you had set free, breathed life into, were subjected to the firing squad, not one minute after the burning of parliament. Those left hide in the shadows of the London streets. They're truly lost. They won't conform, yet they're afraid to have voice, being a witness of the butchering of their loved ones. Most of them have gone completely madd from being disconnected from the world. It's heartbreaking. Lastly, the fighters. Oh V, they would have made you proud. They don't give up; they bow down before no man. The live to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. Defiant to the end. There were many, now only a few remain. Only 30 out of 150 people. Most were killed on the spot, or sent to a concentration camp. My heart goes out to them, but I know that they are laughing in the dictators' face. What you gave them cannot be taken away, and they know that death is blessing, not a curse._

_In these vicious times that approach, it is with a heavy heart that I become the tyrant. I can no longer do things from your perspective. I must take a new approach, and overcome through peace, not war. This is not betrayal. After so many gifts you have given me, it would be vindictive of me to not express my gratitude for you. _

_I don't believe I made it distinctly clear in our last moments together. I love you. I love you to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach. I love who you are, and who you aren't. I love that I've never seen your face, but long to do so. I love that you saved me. I loved that you tortured me. And I love…I loved how you loved me even when I was too blind to see it._

_Why write all this in a letter? Why say all these things? I've never officially said goodbye to you. Not to you. And for six months, I didn't believe I could. But now...now that I am to be wed soon, I've finally mustered the courage to say…. Goodbye._

_Truly yours till my last breath,_

_-E. _

V threw his glass against the brick wall, watching it shatter into a million pieces, much like his heart. Married! How could she tell him something like this! How could she write…

Calming himself, V took a swig of the wine from the bottle this time. No one has seen or heard of Evey Hammond in the past year. No One. The name is half whispered like a curse.

"Evey, weather you are aware of it or not, this was a direct challenge." V scolded, his glare cut to the letter. Gathering his thoughts, he focused on his plan.


	3. Chapter 2

A/n: Just enjoy. sorta short chapter.

Chapter Two.

Valerie did her final check in the mirror, smoothing over her red evening gown. The dress was a vibrant red, with faint blood colored roses profiling down her side leading to the most revealing split known to man. Her make-up accentuated her lovely blue eyes, her red lipstick giving them an alluring glow. Valerie's curly just-a-bit-longer-than-chin-length hair was pinned up in a elegant pin, small strands of curls formed around her face. The flower she sported on her wrist was a Scarlet Carson.

Checking her watch, she cursed. "Shit, I'm late. He's going to be here any moment." She wanted him to come so this night could be over. Lieutenant O' Conner had been courting her for the past year and soon they would be wed. He was in his mid to late thirties, a brute, with a manipulating smile.

He was a firm believer in 'Strength through Unity, Unity through Faith' bullshit and despised the topic of 'V'. She had mentioned his name once and he slapped her uncontrollably.

Valerie growled at the memory. '_He's so lucky V is dead'. _She thought ruthlessly. V wouldn't approve of O' Conner. In fact, V wouldn't approve of any of the choices she had been making lately.

"Like marrying a man whom you don't love." She muttered.

It was no matter though. Valerie did her best these days by blocking out the thoughts of her lost love. She had become efficient at it too, except when she kissed O' Conner. His breath reeked of chewing tobacco and cigars and she felt something inside of her break knowing that his kisses would never compare to that of V's.

There were moments when Valerie broke down from depression. Seeing the streets at night brought back old fears that she didn't like to revisit. V had taught her to take the good with the bad. And now was definitely bad.

Glancing in the mirror once more, Valerie was shocked to see a glimse of Evey through her eyes. " Thus I clothe my naked villany with old odd ends stolen forth from holy writ and seem a saint when I most play the devil." she whispered before turning away from the mirror. Evey was beginning to disappear.

The doorbell sounded and Valerie couldn't help but roll her eyes. O'Connor was taking her to the Opera only because he thought he would get to shag her afterwards. "Bullocks." Valerie scoffed, walking to the door.

She opened the door to see O'Connor standing in her doorway, gleaming with arrogance and dripping with distain. Nonetheless, she put on the prettiest false smile and kissed him on his cheek.

"Valerie my love, you look perfect. Shall we go?" he asked extending his arm. Valerie grabbed her purse and her shawl, draping it over her shoulders and tried not to snicker at the fact that he would never know her real name. "We shall."

--Opera—

'Phantom of the Opera' was being performed by a lovely cast tonight. Valerie tried to concentrate on the show, but couldn't because of O' Connor's hot breath on her neck.

"Darling Please, the show?" she said politely. O' Connor merely growled, nibbling on her neck, his hands creeping up the slit of the dress.

"Come on darling, this is my favorite opera." She tried again, attempting to keep the irritation out her voice.

O' Connor rolled his eyes but stopped nibbling on her neck. His head moved down to her revealing cleavage instead. When his hands was almost on her underwear, she got ticked. "Riley, stop. NOW." She scorned harshly.

O'Conner stopped his antics, grabbling her roughly by her leg. " Why the hell are you such a prude! I'm about to marry your ungrateful ass. The least you could do is show a little appreciation!" he spat.

Having enough, Valerie stood up. Gathering her things, she turned to leave, but he roughly grabbed her arm. "Where in the hell are you going Valerie? Don't you dare walk out on me!" he yelled. No one but her heard him due to the music.

"Get your bloody hands off me!" she screeched, ripping her forearm away. She gave a warning look and then left.

O'Connor sighed, taking out his phone. "Yes, it's me. Bring her back."

Valerie didn't slow her pace, knowing O' Connor had more than likely sent out his goons to retrieve her. It had happened before and she had ended up with a black eye from her fiancé.

It took a lot of restraint not to kill him like she ached to do. Valerie could take him down in two seconds if she wanted. She had been training in kickboxing and sword fighting with a private trainer for months, and watching _'The Count of Monte Crisco' _repeatedly until she knew every move.

A white van pulled up, O'Connor's men no doubt. Valerie watched Sergeant Gremmie jump step out the van.

"Good evening Valerie. I see you're looking well. "He complimented coldly.

Valerie cautiously took a step back for security. Gremmie had been on edge with her ever since she refused to date him months ago.

He had found her shortly after V's death and insisted that he take "care" of her. Valerie wasn't fooled for one second. Sergeant Gremmie was a bum in uniform. He molested, rapped and harassed women and used his status to dictate the way he manipulated people.

"Why thank you Sergeant. If you are here to escort me back to that pig of a Lieutenant, you're wasting your time. I'm going home." The woman known as Valerie boldly announced.

"Oh, I think you know how this works Miss Valerie. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but whatever you decide, we're TAKING you back to your fiancé." Gremmie growled with authority.

Valerie froze for a second. She remembered what happened when she had it the "hard way" Gremmie almost rapped her in the van with his men lustfully watching. But then again, she had never chosen to do it the "easy" way, so why start now?

"And since you seem to be hard of hearing, let me tell you again: I'm going HOME. Tell my _fiancé _he can shove it up his ass. Goodnight gentlemen." Valerie dismissed them with a careless flick of the wrist and started to walk off.

Gremmie blocked Valerie's path, pinning her to a wall. She gave a small groan from the pain, but her eyes remained glazed with rage. "Take your hands off of me. NOW."

"Now what would be the fun in that? I would have made a better husband for you. I would have never treated you like anything less than a diamond. But since you decided to leave with trash..."

His hands began to roughly fondle her, locating a source of access. Gremmie smirked when he found her slit his hands trying to reach their destination. Valerie pushed and hit. Finally having enough of the damsel in distress bullshit, she kneed him in the balls, and gave him a double hit: first with her fist, then her elbow.

Gremmie stumbled back, falling to the floor in pain. His men watched him for a quick moment, before charging forward. Before the first blow was thrown, Valerie and the men heard a strange sound.

Metal or steel, scraping against brick. Out of the shadow of the alley appeared a face. A face that would have made Evey's heart soar, but Valerie's sank.

The Notorious Guy Fawkes mask came glistening into the night and Valerie's knees went weak. "No..." she whispered in denial. It couldn't be…

"Vile villains dare violate the shrew that is not worthy of such lasciviousness, but I mutter a vision of truth: I do believe the vile victim of consequence does not want to be touched." V's words were smooth, cold, filled with vehemence.

Valerie was unable to break his gaze all the while she felt dirty, ashamed. She glanced at the men who stood scared and cowardly. "Take Gremmie and get out of here." She spoke hoarsely. Clearly they heard her well enough because they were in the van and gone in seconds, left alone with V.

"I buried you." She stuttered out. V's cold porcelain mask tilted it's head slightly. "Clearly, not deep enough."

She backed against the hard cold brick wall, every nerve in her body had gone ill. V took one step toward her, reading her emotions like a children's book. This woman had fear in her eyes. This woman had no hope. This woman was not Evey Hammond.

"V...the letter...I..." Valerie began, but couldn't finish. What he must think of her! Her heart belonged to this man; he saved her, opened her eyes, died for her. And yet she repays him with her villany.

"Give me a reason as why I should not kill you now? How you mask your betrayel behind a name that you do not deserve and eyes that reveal fear." V replied cruely, unwelcoming.

"You're one to talk! How can you leave me when I needed you most! When the world needed you." she scolded.

Before he had a chance to say anything,Valerie backed away, afraid of him. "You stay away from me V! Just stay away!" She turned around and ran home, hoping to God he didn't follow.

-----

She reached her home without much difficulty. She bolted the door behind her, running up stairs to her room. Valerie caught herself in the mirror upon entering the room.

Her make up was smeared and her hair array. She looked confused. It was Evey. Evey stared back at her on the other side of the mirror, a look of disgrace.

"He's right...I don't deserve to live." she whispered.

Valerie took a look around the room. There was a scarlet carson on her bed, and a shadow in her doorway.

"I'm ready." Evey said to the shadow. V stepped into the light, holding the poison.

A/n: will she die? will v have mercy? please continue to read!


	4. Chapter 3

**A/n: Thank you for the reviews. Enjoy the chapter.**

Chapter three

"You're not him…you can't be. You're a fake, and a liar! So if you're here to kill me, get it over with!" She retorted in his direction. There was no way this man was V. If it was him, she wouldn't be standing here in all dolled up in expensive clothing marrying a man she was repulsed by. There was no way V would let her suffer…he loved her...didn't he?

"You accuse me of lies, yet you walk around with the name _'Valerie'_?! You don't deserve such an honor." V coldly spat putting the needle on the vanity mirror. How dare this woman, whom he no longer knew, accuse him of lying? It made his blood boil to even look at the figure in front of him.

"How dare you stand there and judge me?! Where the hell were you, while I was burying myself in misery?! Where the hell you when O' Connor were put his filthy hands on me without my permission! Where the hell were YOU for almost two years if not dead?!" She screeched.

V walked over to her, placing two fingers over her chest. "Here." He remarked, as his fingers touched on her heart. "But obviously I see I was wrong, as you wasted no time living the life of luxury while I supposedly rotted beneath the ashes of parliament."

Valerie pushed him away from her. "What?! I died that day!" She watched in a trance as he stepped closer, until he were but not a hair-length away, and gently tilted her chin upward.

"Is that why I can't see her? My love? My Evey? Is she really dead?" He questioned softly. Evey stared through the Guy Fawkes mask, imagining she could see his eyes. They looked hurt, lost, angry, and lonely.

Valerie glanced at the mirror. Her reflection was someone completely different. Before, she saw just Valerie-an elegant beauty, on the verge of imaginary happiness. She was exquisite, she was sexy, she was…she was an idiot. Now, she saw Valerie, but a glimpse of something else. A person she hadn't seen since V died. She saw Evey.

Turning back to V, she shook her head. "She's not dead, but… almost." She confessed. V wiped the tear off her cheek. "Close your eyes." Valerie complied, without hesitation, unaware of anything.

V lifted his mask, and brought his lips to meet hers. Evey moaned in surprise, taking in all of him. The kiss was slow, and sweet. Their tongues danced as if they were back in the Shadow Gallery. V ended it with a small tug on her lips before pulling down his mask.

Evey's breath was ragged and choppy, but she had never felt more alive. Gazing up at him adoringly, she smiled. "It's you..." she said in awe. V cupped her face. "Yes, my love it's me. Is it you?"

V watched in a trance as she began to move the mask upward. Before he could prevent her from uncovering his identity, the mask stopped moving. And for the first time, he was afraid to move, to breathe…

Evey stared at his exposed, surprisingly smooth lips. Lightly scarred skin tissue surrounded his strong jaw line. Without thinking twice, she kissed it. Not an open mouth kiss of seduction, but butterflies kiss. One that someone would miss if they weren't paying attention.

She kissed the corner of his mouth the same way. Light, delicate, lovingly. V was still frozen in astonishment. He closed his eyes, letting his other senses become heightened by the new feeling.

Evey was gone. Outside of herself. She did what felt right. And what felt right was him. His touch. She wanted him to touch her. Anywhere. Everywhere. Taking his hand in hers, she removed his glove. She heard V intake air as she placed it under the slit of her dress on her thigh, guiding it slowly toward her hips.

Smoothly running the tip of her tongue over his bottom lip, Evey silently asked for entry. V granted her request immediately. The kiss gave a rush of something both of them sensed, as much as a dash of something else.

Neither of them went mad with lust, despite their bodies' reaction. V was considerate of the moment as was she. V's gloved hand snaked around the nape of her neck as she stopped guiding his other hand to touch his cheek.

Evey felt him tighten his hold on her, which constituted a soft moan from her lips. Then she felt it come over her like a tidal wave. Hunger. She was starving to feel him all over her and inside of her at once. The kiss became more frenzied as V gripped her thigh with securely, pulling her closer.

His soft growl was matched with a small moan, almost like a whimper. He had waited six months for this moment. He wanted her now more than ever, but it couldn't be this way. Evey would resent him, weather she knew it or not, for taking her this way. Knowing they were now lusting for each other, not loving.

With that, he gently but forcefully, ended the kiss. Evey new his thoughts because she had thought of the same thing. What they both wanted wasn't going to happen tonight, and it most certainly wasn't going to happen here. They were both silent for a moment, catching their breath before speaking.

Evey closed her eyes, rested her head against his chest and nodded eagerly. "Yes, it's me. Where the hell have you been?" she asked looking up at him. He had already fixed his mask. V guided her to her bed, sitting down with her.

"Working." He stated a bit hoarse.

Evey chose that moment to look down at her dress, whipping off an invisible strand of hair. "Well then…I suppose you know who O' Connor is."

V's expression hardened behind the mask. "Yes, I'm well aware of who your fiancé is. My question is why." Evey lifted a shoulder. "I was trying to…" She stopped at hearing the doorbell ring.

"It's O'Connor." She said knowingly. V noticed her body tense at his name. Taking out a dagger, he stood. "I'll get rid of him." He confirmed but as he turned to leave, he felt a tug on his arm.

"No." Evey begged. "Please. After all, he is my… fiancé." She gulped. She stood, straitening her dress. V turned towards the window. "Please don't leave. I'll be right back." Evey insisted.

V watched her leave, closing the door behind her.

Evey answered the door in a bit of a rush. "WHAT?" she asked rudely. O'Connor was a bit shocked, but came out of it quickly. He'd never seen her so fiery. "Valerie, I've come over to let you apologize for you behavior tonight."

She crossed her arms over her chest which drew his immediate attention. "Me apologize?! You've got some nerve! You're the one who tried to rape me in the theatre!"

O'Connor snarled at her accusation. "It's not rape if you're my fiancé! And you should start acting accordingly!" "NO!" Evey hollered. "It's not rape if I've given my consent in which case I have not and will not be doing so any time soon!"

"And if I decided not to wait?!" he challenged with a raise of his eyebrow. Thinking of V's reaction to that remark, Evey slammed the door in his face and locked it. Running back to her room, she felt a chill seeing the window open.

"V?" She called out, but she had a feeling he was gone. Seeing the note on her bed, she sighed, tears resurfacing.

Opening the letter, she read his neat penmanship.

_I'll always be where you know you can find me._

_-V_

Evey took the letter into the bathroom and burned it. The last thing she needed in this apartment was letters from a terrorist everyone believed was dead. With a grave sigh, she undressed and went to bed.

Weeks had past since Evey had seen V. She continued to play the role of Valerie, trying to remember that she was engaged, not a prisoner. As always, O'Connor had apologized, taking her out to different countries and restaurants treating her like his accessory every step of the way.

And in a way, she deserved this. At any moment, she could drop the act and announce herself as Evey Hammond, a wanted terrorist in London and an accomplice to the most legendary name of all.

But something was holding her back. Something that wasn't finished. Coming out of her thoughts, Evey put on her fake smile as O' Connor guided her through the room. Tonight was the night of celebration.

The new Prime Minister Peter Gulliver was going to speak about the up and coming events and the new system of government. Supposedly, it was better than the old 'Strength through Unity, Unity through Faith' slogan. It didn't make the odds any better though.

If every one knew what Evey knew, that the new prime minister was actually a set up in the case of his cousin Adam Sutler's death, then there would be utter chaos among the crowd.

Evey lifted a corner of her mouth. '_Chaos won't be far behind.' _She thought, knowing V would surely make an appearance tonight.

Dressed in all black silk, the dress fit like a glove to her body, showing off the right amount of everything. The style was Greek, both ends of the dress tying together at each shoulder, and the dip traveling all the way to her navel and the same down her back. Her hair was set off with curls.

Evey knew if looks could kill, the men would all die of a heart attack. Clearly she had every male's attention. Too bad she had not worn the dress for them. She knew it would only be truly appreciated by one man alone and not the one whose arm was around her.

O'Connor walked through the crowd, stopping in front of Captain Moby. Supposedly, Captain Moby was harmless, but Evey knew Better. O'Connor gave command for Moby to kill all those innocent people on November 5th, and without a soul, did it.

"Sir." Captain Moby saluted O'Connor, who returned the gesture. He slightly bowed to Evey, who merely stared at him with pure unadulterated hatred.

"Good evening Miss Valerie." Moby acknowledge her presence quietly. Evey replied briskly. "Captain."

O'Connor must have not caught on to the awkwardness between the two or hadn't of cared, because he continued on with conversation. " So my boy, have you thought about it?"

Moby shook his head no. "I've been extremely busy sir. Training the new recruits and all. I'm sorry for the delay…" O'Connor raised a hand to stop him. "No no, this is a big decision, but believe you me, it's the right one. This can't go into effect without the sixth, and you're very important to this government. Think more of it."

"Y-yes sir." Moby stuttered.

For some reason, Evey found it hard to believe that Moby could be the murdering type. He was always so unsure, so tense, so…confused. He couldn't think for himself. Which makes his killing 4000 women and men more disgusting.

O'Connor dismissed him with a salute and they continued toward the stage. Evey noted that they had been talking in code the entire time. As the announcer came to the stage, a screen dropped from the ceiling.

No one thought it was suspicious because they thought it was part of the presentation. That is, till it went completely black. Evey gave a wide grin, knowing that V was making a grand entrance.

O'Connor took his arm from around her and grabbed his gun. "Valerie, stay put." If only he knew she was silently backing away from him, blindly trusting her good memory to get her back towards the entrance.

Luckily, she reached the back without much problem as most people thought she was just scared. She stopped moving when she felt a hand go down her spine. Not just any hand. V's hand. The soft texture of the warm glove gave it away.

His hands moved down her arm till they had her hand, in which he led her towards the exit.

They were now in the main hall, with two rows of stairs to either side leading to the balcony above. Together, they climbed the stairs, taking a seat in the luxurious chairs, seeing the screen perfectly.

TELLY[A picture of V appears on the screen, everyone in the room gasp. There are orders to search the back scenes and perimeter, but since all the power had been cut, they were blind mice.

V speaks:

_Remember, remember the fifth of November. It appears that I have not made it unavoidably clear that this country is under a new form of government called 'Anarchy'. I could not die in peace, knowing there were still villains about doing evil without justice being served. All it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing…and I, ladies gentlemen, could not do nothing._

_I believe I have stated before that there is something terribly wrong with this country, and until we begin to see change, there will be less of London, and more landscape. I'm sure everyone is aware of the nursery rhyme, 'London Bridge is Falling down' and oh yes, it will fall-again. _

_You may ponder, the whys and the when's but not as much as you do the how. If I was reported dead, how can I be here, delivering this message to every telly in England? Obviously, London England, it was a lie. A lie few believed, most accepted, and some forgot about. _

_Your new chief prime minister, Prime Minister, Peter Gulliver, is dead. I'm sorry to report to the guest at House of England, I killed him an hour ago. His body at this point is more than likely discovered, and the government is scrambling to find a lie to tell to the public. _

_Make no mistake about it. More villains will die before this Vengeance of the Notorious V is over. There is a new vendetta, and for those of you who aren't aware, the clock is ticking like the bomb of violent anxiety as only it can. _

_[Black screen _

The lights immediately start up as the Peace Force bombards the room. O'Connor notices Valerie's absence. "That bastard has her! Find him!" He shouts orders. The men nod and exit the front entrance.

Reports are going crazy as men shout to O'Connor that Prime Minister Peter Gulliver is indeed dead. O'Connor curses, whiling heading out to find his fiancé.

Evey entered the Shadow Gallery with a sigh. She had missed this place. Twirling in the grand living room, she made her way to kitchen for a drink. If she had wings, she could fly.

"V, you were fantastic tonight! That speech you gave was absolutely beautiful." She ecstatically complimented. Getting two glasses, she poured herself and V some wine, heading back into the living room.

She found him on the couch, laid back on the couch, covering his eyes. Evey came around and sat beside him, setting the glasses down. "V?" she spoke softly.

"You look beautiful." He tiredly complimented. Evey blushed, like a school girl. "I wore it for you." She confessed shyly. "Really? I thought you wore for that pig you were slinked over like the accessory he treats you as." V dryly replied, all sarcasm.

Evey frowned, not knowing what to say. "V…O'Connor means nothing to me." V snorted sitting up. Something ungentlemanly and very unlike him. "Don't bother to lie to me Evey. If he meant nothing to you, he'd be dead by now. If he meant nothing, then that night, you should have been here, with me."

"If you're angry with me because I didn't come with you…" she started but was cut off.

"No Evey. I have no right to be irate about your hesitation to see me. Not after my being gone for nearly two years and not mentioning it. I'm disappointed that you're protecting the enemy. The same man who we're fighting to overcome. The same type of men who tortured and killed me, Valerie, your brother, your mother and father and ultimately you!" V protested with rage.

Evey sniffed. "I have my reasons V, and believe me; I'm not staying for love. It's the farthest thing from my mind weather I'm with him or not." "Then what is on your mind?" V challenged.

Evey closed her eyes, exhaling. "Suicide." She whispered. V's cold expression broke. Could she be in so much pain that it went beyond his comprehension? Would she torture herself, so save others? To save him?

"Evey…" V was at a loss for words. Evey touched the cheek of his mask. "I know you've read the letter V. Part of me always knew you would get to. And I meant every word of it. I do love you. Even when I'm with him, I love you. There is no other, I promise."

V smiled, and he had a feeling she knew he was too. She took his hat off his head, placing it on her own, it barely staying above the rim of her nose. The gesture was cute until she gently pushed him back; reaching over him to turn out the light, hinting that she was all business now.

Evey removed his mask, V showed no resistance because they both knew she couldn't see him. She let her lips find his, both letting out a soft moan of pleasure. V let his hands roam her body, each remembering every curve.

Hormones raging like a wanton animal, Evey put a leg on each side of V's waist, straddling him as she hiked up her gown. Her hands roamed over his arms and chest, exploring his massive biceps and chest.

V took a sharp breath when Evey laid her lips on the hollow of his neck and shoulder, kissing it with her tongue. He kissed all over her chest while gripping her legs, his hands riding under her dress. He tugged on her thong, and then stopped.

Something sounded off in the distance. A faint noise. V groaned a bit of annoyance, but Evey took it as pleasure.

Her hands were working on his belt when he stopped her. "V, what's wrong?" she asked out of breath. "Evey," he growled regrettably. "We can't darling. Not tonight." "Why?" Evey was completely unaware.

"Because…we have guests." V exhaled, clearly pissed. As if on cue, there was a small knock at the door.

**A/n: So who could be knocking? Surely it's not opportunity! lol. Stay tuned and review!**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Finch made his way to the Shadow Gallery following the old subway station tunnel until he came upon a dark hallway. He made a sharp, discrete right which led to a door, hidden to the untrained eye. He turned the knob once, and then pushed the door open.

The Shadow Gallery in all its glory came into view, moments later. Finch took a careful look around. "Mr.…uh…V." he called. "Are you there? I need to have a brief word." At hearing nothing, he reached for his pistol.

"I wouldn't, inspector. Not if you wish to walk out the door you just entered."

The one known as V, approached, twirling a knife in one hand. Finch stood helplessly as the blade that was once in front of him now lies comfortably on his neck.

"I've come to talk about Evey. She's in grave danger." Finch stated desperately. Nonetheless, the blade came off.

V twirled the knife back to its holster. "Obviously, you've been here before to have found the underground station and the door for that matter."

Finch nodded in confirmation. "I was here the night she buried you." V looked somewhat surprised, even behind the mask. "Well, in that case, pardon my lack of hospitality. You are quite aware of the bounty I am to this absurd infraction we call government."

"Yes, well you are quite the catch." Finch rubbed his throat. V escorted him to the couch. "Please, sit down. Now, you mentioned Evey."

"Yes," Finch started soberly. "She's caused quite a stir." "As only I can imagine." V said proudly.

Finch shook his head. "No, you don't understand. She's under the watchful eye of the Peace Force."

V let the Guy Fawkes mask smile for him. "They won't catch her."

"They won't have too." Finch tried to make him understand. "They'll draw her out by doing what they do best. I understand she's going after the new councilmen in office. The election will be soon. V, I'm asking for your help on this one. You know, and now I've seen what they do to those people they capture. They've taken children, and treated them like they were lab rats just because of the acts of their parents. Not if, but WHEN they catch Evey, it's going to be far worse than anything anyone has ever endured."

V took his words to heart. What happened at Larkhill was monstrous, but not nearly as horrific as what was going on now. "She's not afraid to die."

Finch sighed. "I know. I'm afraid for her. And so are you. There are other ways to bring justice than killing men off. That doesn't rectify the problem, only revises the strategy."

"You have my word, Mr. Finch that Evey will be in the best care necessary." V vowed.

Finch nodded. "I hope so."

"Mr. Finch?" Evey's voice came from the entrance. Finch smiled at the young beauty staring back at him. It would be a pity if she were detained. "Ms. Hammond. I was just on my way out. Have a pleasant evening." He bowed curtly, and then left.

After hearing the door shut, Evey faced V in confusion. "What was that all about?" she asked, taking the scarf off.

V patted the sofa. "Come, my darling. We have much to discuss." Noting the seriousness in his light tone, Evey took a seat next to him.

"What is it?" she asked. V took her hands. They were cold. She had the touch of death as he did. "I must ask you to do something, but I am unaware of what it could mean if I do." He started.

"Anything in my power V, anything." She soothed.

V cupped her face. "Don't go through with your mission. It's too dangerous, even for a headstrong woman like you."

Evey removed his hand. "V, what are you talking about? Why?"

"Because, if the Peace Force were to find you, I'd never see this face again." His confession tore at her heart, but it did not excuse his reasoning.

"V, I have changed in the six months that you were gone. I can handle myself." She explained as calmly as she could.

"I know you have changed. I've witnessed the transformation, and it is as breathtaking as seeing a child being born." V placated.

"I'm not a child. You promised me there were no more locked doors V. What are you doing?"

Evey was lost. This is what she wanted. This is what she thought he had wanted. For her to live without fear, serve justice. Now he was telling her no? It made no sense!

"I'm asking you to stand down. This is a fight you can't win alone." He said firmly.

Evey stood, appalled. "I'm not alone! Am I?" V didn't answer her. Well he did answer her, but not in words. The silence was deafening enough.

The question confused her. She had it all planned. V and she would take on the world together. Be a team again. Be lovers. But now that he was withdrawing himself, what was she to do?

Without so much as a glance, she glanced at the grandfather clock in the far corner struck 9:00pm. Evey exhaled giving an incoherent curse.

"Time for work." She said softly. "No." V said with an apparent frown behind the smiling mask. If he had told her no, then it meant no to everything.

V watched her sit up only to see she hadn't much clothing. Just a wife-beater and panties. A tempting image only thought of in his dreams, but now was not the time. "Evey, I understand you felt as if I've lied to you."

"You told me that the time has come for me to live without trepidation. And I don't fear. I do not fear death, the Peace Force, my enemies, for my life. I fear...I fear you." Evey told him.

Her declaration broke his heart. He watched her retreat to her room and come back moments later.

Dressed in all white, she grabbed her baton and walked out the gallery living room.

-Police Headquarters-

Finch took a sip of his coffee, losing his patience. He didn't drink coffee. Going over the surveillance of last night's murder was always a battle. Only this time, he knew who the killer was. "Dominic, slow it down, fast-forward, and get me the bloody file."

Dominic nodded, following the instructions. When he returned, he noticed Finch put out the signal scrambler. With relief, he exhaled. "The girl has gone mad!"

Finch plopped down in his rolling chair. "That's a bit of an understatement, now isn't it?" Dominic put the file on the desk. "She must know something we don't."

"She's only killed one man, Mr. Lupton. Files on him say he's an upstanding bloke." Finch said with irritation.

Dominic scoffed. "Not to mention, she blew up half the bloody military with their own government property weapons."

"She's doing the same thing he was. Hunting down all her predecessors one by one. But she isn't like him…she isn't out for revenge…" Finch mumbled to himself, lost in thought.

Dominic sighed. "Sir, you make it rather difficult when you mumble like that for hours on end."

Finch glanced up at the lost detective and nodded an apology. "Sorry. Lupton was on the Restoration committee, yes?"

Dominic went through Lupton's file. "Yes. After November 5th, he was appointed to the Restoration committee. Along with five other members. But we already know this."

Finch shook his head. "There's something about those committee members that she sees and we don't."

Dominic shrugged. "Mr. Lupton was the first to be appointed, and it says here that a Mr. Benson signed it second."

Finch's eyes grew big. "Mr. Benson was just released from protective custody a week ago after hearing terrorist V was murdered. He's next."

Grabbing his coat, Finch dashed out the door, with Dominic not too far behind. "But where are we going to find him?"

Finch took out his keys, never breaking his stride. "His office is by the Big Ben Tower. What a bloody coincidence. It's like the man is trying to be killed!"

-Big Ben Tower—

Benson strolled along the empty, peaceful streets, whistling a small tune. As he walked, he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of the corner of his eye. Nothing but his imagination he guessed. Then there were footsteps.

He stopped walking. The footsteps stopped. "I've gone crazy." He continued whistling, finally reaching the clock.

Another tune could be heard. He paused and glanced at the tower, revealing only 9:55pm. "Huh." Benson sighed. He had too much to drink tonight. He was about to walk off when the tune continued. It was the '_Carol of the Bells'._

Benson froze. Turning slowly, he saw no one behind him, only to turn around and meet his nightmare's shadow. "No…" he couldn't believe it.

"Yes…Hello Big Ben."

The voice was soft as a dove. It made him relax. A small feminine figure in all white appeared in the light of the tower. She was wearing a light half mask, revealing only that of her delicate nostrils and poised red lips.

"You're out past curfew, darling." Benson responded smugly. Tonight couldn't get any better. He'd shag her, and leave her here for the Peace Force to pick up.

"I am quite aware of the time, but are you?" She asked coolly. Benson raised an eyebrow. He glanced at his own wrist watch. "It's 9:56."

"No." she spat at him, dismayed by his answer. "It is 9:57." Benson glanced at his watch again. It was indeed the time she said.

"Is this going anywhere before I lose my patience?" he asked crossing his arms. Benson took the time to let his eyes roam over her body. She looked soft, delicate, and breakable. Oh yes, he'd enjoy breaking her in quite nicely.

"Quite right, after all, you only have 3 minutes." The masked angel smiled. "You hide behind your title as a high ranking professor at St. Augustine's Church, but as quiet as it is kept, you're a complete pedophile. It is understood that over 3,046 children were admitted into the rehabilitation camps. Children that you are in charge of. 3,046 children that you can molest, rate, and torture to your heart's content. That alone is enough reason for you to die, but that it is not. You are going to die, because when you signed '_Anonymous Justifications of November the 5__th'_ you signed over your death to the one person you were trying to avoid-me."

Benson tried to ease the tension in his face, but to no avail. Taking out his gun, he aimed it unsteadily at the woman in front of him. "Back off bitch!" His voice shook.

The woman calmly lowered the gun. "Let's be rather practical and not go there Mr. Benson. Truth is, I already killed you ten minutes ago while you were masturbating to your grandson's photograph. Sickening bastard."

Benson tried to shoot, but couldn't feel his fingers. He watched the woman in white walk away as the clock stroked ten. He fell flat on his stomach, only seeing her footsteps from his side, since he couldn't move his eyes. She paused in mid stride, throwing a single Scarlet Carson back it him, and kept walking.

Maybe his discomfort came off a little more aggressive than his original intent. He had meant to make her feel as he did. Confused, helpless and madly in love, not aggravated, insulted and heartbroken.

But no matter. If she loved him as much as he loved her, and something inside him screamed that she did, then she would return and he would rectify the situation.

"Yes," V nodded in assurance. "She'll come back." And if he believed that, then he was a complete imbecile. Grabbing his cloak and dagger he headed out the door into the early morning.


End file.
